


For King and Country

by TheQuietQuill



Series: Medieval Elounor AU Series [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Battle, Cheating, F/M, Forbidden Love, Graphic Description, King Liam, Knights - Freeform, Multi, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Pining, Smut, War, depressoion, knight louis, queen eleanor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuietQuill/pseuds/TheQuietQuill
Summary: “I’ve missed you so much,” Eleanor whispered softly.Louis replied simply, and truthfully, “I missed you too, El.”Or: For months at war, all Louis wanted is to return to his beloved and his Queen, Eleanor. But once the war ends, being back home in the palace isn’t as great as Louis hoped it would be.*Picks up a few months after A Knight's Tale!*





	For King and Country

**Author's Note:**

> SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry this sequel took forever to post! *AND IT'S NOT FULLY DONE YET! THERE'S STILL ANOTHER PART!*  
> I had surgery in January and the recovery took longer then expected. Plus I wasn't really inspired for a while to white this, mainly because I was disheartened by how little people were reading/leaving comments and kudos on AKTs. SO PLEASE leave nice comments and kudos for the fanfics you read and like! Us authors love it so much and it encourages us to keep writing!  
> Always please read and enjoy!

 

                Louis grunted as his sword plunged into the side of his opponent.

It was a random Northern solider that didn’t look older then twenty, and if a hard wind swept over the open plains, the lad would have been taken with it. It was clear, after months of the fighting in the cold, that the it had all taken a toll on the young man, as he barely put up a fight. The man was unsteady on his feet, and his movements were stiff and slow. Louis thought briefly, as he twisted the blade into the man’s gut, that perhaps he was just a farmer or a stable boy back home, and had no experience or purpose for war.

The man gasped, held onto to Louis’ shoulder as the knight lowered him to the snow-covered ground. He looked at the knight, his eyes wide and terrified. His breath grew shallow and quick.

“I’m sorry,” Louis told the young lad, “But God will have more mercy on you.”

As Louis pulled back his sword, he took with it the last breath from the young man.

With a deep breath, the knight rose to his feet and eyed the battlefield.

                Louis was tired of this scene.

                Young men from the same or neighboring countries, sweating and bleeding for a war that they had not created. He was tired of seeing the aftermath, of discovering which of his soldiers and friends had died during battle that day. He was tired of the back and forth, of days and weeks with no action mixed in with battles that lasted for days on end. Louis was tired of the waiting, for supplies, for more men, for either side to strike first. He was tired of sleeping in a text on cold hard grounds and eating hot broth and bread for dinner every night for three months straight.

                But still, Louis pressed on.

                He spotted Prince Harry in a bit of a pickle, fending off two brute Northern soldiers by himself. Louis made the rushed decision to help him out. While running towards the middle of the field where Prince Harry was, Louis took down two more opponents with brisk jabs to their guts in passing. The knight noticed quickly how many of Wexler’s men laid in bloody heaps across the open field, wincing at the sounds of manic cries of pain, but can’t focus on them for too long.

                Prince Harry was corned into a tree when Louis arrived. In no time, the English knight cut one of the man’s neck from behind, killing him instantly. The other Northern solider spun around, fuming at Louis and his large sward drawn and ready to fight. He took two steps towards the knight, but stopped abruptly. Louis watched as the man stood before him, stunned, as the red spot in his chest spread rapidly from Prince Harry’s sward. He dropped to his knees, and Prince Harry stepped on his back as he drew his sward out of him. The Northern solider fells face forward to the ground.

                “Thanks,” Prince Harry said to Louis breathlessly, “Although, I had everything under control.”

                If it were any other person, Louis would have rolled his eyes and made a sarcastic comment. But even in battle, there was a hierarchy, and it would have been highly frowned upon to interact with a Prince so casually. So Louis just nodded tightly in response.

                “Your majesty!” a Scottish solider ran up to the Prince and the knight. Panting, the young man relayed the information, “Lord Harrison’s men have surrendered, my Prince!”

                Louis looked out into the battlefield and noticed the Harrison banner, an ox with yellow and black colors, being pulled down. It was quickly replaced by a white flag, with Harrison’s soldiers shouting their surrenders. Prince Liam’s and Scotland’s armies drew back, and took the weapons from Lord Harrison’s men as the they left the field. Louis felt a bit more at ease, and even smiled slightly at the cheers coming from his soldiers.

                Three of the four Northern houses had surrendered, with Lords Smith and Trombley surrendering their troops within the previous few days.

                Only one more house remained, Lord Wexler.

The Scottish prince grinned, “Excellent news. Thank you, Daniel. Tell General Finch to finish this war, shall we?”

As the solider ran off with his orders, Louis looked intensely across the field. This horrid war had dragged on for ages, nearly six months to be exact. The war itself started out interestingly enough, with Prince Liam and Scottish armies pushing Lord Wexler and company’s armies back to the midlands. Then the months dragged on, with only small battles between weeks of waiting for the either side to strike. During those lulls, Louis would grow restless in his rain covered tent with his hand by his sward and his eyes on the horizon.

His mind would wonder off to his Queen more often then not. In those terribly cold and lonely nights, Louis would envision holding his beloved Eleanor in his arms. He always pictured her happy, smiling genuinely and would swear he could hear Eleanor bright laugh in the howling sounds of the evening gusts of winds. The knight would cradle the dried heather flower as the nights grew on, and Louis would eventually drift to slumber, dreaming only of Eleanor’s eyes and her warm embrace.

Louis was foolish to think that going off to war was easier then remaining by Eleanor’s side. He should have known better, that despite the many distractions and the company surrounding him at all hours of the day, Eleanor was impossible to forget. She was still beside him, haunting him, despite the distance and despite the fact that he needed to let Eleanor go, she still was latched onto his soul.

This war had dragged on far too long for Louis’ liking. He wished only to see Eleanor’s face once more, and refused to die in some desolate field in the middle of England.

So when Louis saw that bloody Lord Wexler, practically smooching his poor horse as he tried to escape the edge of the battlefield, Louis gave chase.

He found Sable quickly, the good girl was still with the handler Louis left her with at their camp nearby. Louis mounted his steady horse quickly, with Prince Harry running up beside him as Louis took off.

“Sir Louis!” the prince huffed, “Stand down! Wexler should be my kill!”

But the knight ignored the Scottish prince. Louis kicked the side of his steed and gained significant pace. He cut through the battlefield with ease, knocking down a few Northern soldiers as they struggled to fight off the larger, more imposing English and Scottish armies. He saw the fat lord desperately try to run away on his horse, but Louis was faster on Sable. Amongst the forest where Wexler ran off to, Louis found himself right behind him. He pulled his sward from his belt, still covered in it’s sheath and wacked the back leg of Wexler’s horse. Louis slowed down Sable to a small trot as Wexler is thrown off his horse. Louis hopped off his horse, slapped Sable’s hip and urged the horse to run off, leaving the two men alone in the forest.

Lord Wexler looked over his shoulder, his gaze petrified and almost pleading as he looked up at the knight looming over him. Louis took a composed breath before drawing out his sward and throwing the sheath aside.

“Get up,” he gestured at the old lord. The Lord remained still, denying Louis’ demand, so the knight kicked his ankle, “Get up and fight me old man!”

The Lord, amused, laughed almost cynically, “You’re the one assigned to kill me? A bastard who ate out of his king’s hand his whole life just to survive?” Wexler scoffed, “King Geoff should’ve thrown you and your mother out into the streets.”

“Stand up and fight me!” Louis yelled, making the Lord flinch. He stood ready as Lord Wexler got up on his shaky legs. The Lord made a poor decision to wear little to no armor around his pudgy body, but that wasn’t Louis’ fault. Wexler pulled out his sward timidly, as if he had hardly used it over the course of the war. If wouldn’t surprise Louis one bit if that was the case.

Louis made a quick strike to Wexler’s left, with his deflected easily by the Lord.

“You’re so angry, Louis,” Lord Wexler noted with a smirk, and a failed quick jab to Louis’ side. The knight was irritated, frustrated as he deflected the Lord’s sward with ease. The two slowly circled around each other, as if they were hostile paired partners at a ball, both being tentative and a bit shy. Louis was done with these games, this battle that has dragged on for so long.

“Damn right I’m angry, old man!” Louis shouted. He swung his sword, but the cowardly Lord moved back, avoiding Louis’ strike completely. The knight heaved tiredly, “Fight back, Wexler!”

The Lord clicked his tongue, and moved two steps to his right. Louis followed him in their imaginary circle, their sword both poised and ready to fight. Wexler once again tried to strike Louis, going straight for Louis’ gut. It was a foolish move, to try and stab a well-trained knight from dead on. Louis was quick, quicker then Lord Wexler, and rotated the tip of his sword around Lord Wexler’s blade. The Lord lost his sturdy grip on his sword, and Louis watched, in pleasure, as Wexler’s face contort in horror as his sword fell to the ground.

                Lord Wexler stood before Louis, completely defenseless with his hands raised up.

                “You move for your sword, I will cut your arm off,” the knight warned him evenly.

                “This isn’t exactly a fair and honorable fight, Sir Tomlinson,” Lord Wexler pointed out, his voice quivering.

                Louis scoffed at the nerve of the man, “This whole war has been nothing but unfair and dishonorable, spurred on by your own orders!” He took in a large breath, delighted to see the terrible Lord sweating. “You betrayed your King and country, not I.”

                Lord Wexler laughed, rather sharp and harsh, “That boy Liam is not my King.”

                At that, Louis nicked the Lord’s cheek with the tip of his sword. The man yelped in pain, crumbling to his stocky knees, and cupping the small scratch with his hand. A train a blood ran down his neck and through the grooves of his fingers.

                “King Liam is a just man,” Louis told Wexler flatly, “You should be so honored to have him lead your country.”

                “He’s leading our country into the arms of the Scots!” Lord Wexler spat out in disgust. He huffed, “It was bad enough when his damn father allowed those fools to continue on with the idea of them living separate lives from England. It was foolish of him to let them think and act like they weren’t British, but to go through and acknowledge them as a separate nation?” The Lord spat to the ground, “That’s when I abandoned the Paynes completely as my leaders. I shall never pledge allegiance to any Payne so long as I live!”

                Louis couldn’t hold back, his fury spilling over. Lord Wexler screamed in pain as the knight plunged his sword into his forearm. Louis pulled his sword out, leaving the Lord panting and bleeding heavily from his new wound.

                Louis also, couldn’t help but ask.

                “Why then, if you hate the Scots so much,” Louis began, his mind reeling, “Why would you want to take Princess Eleanor as your bride?”  

                “Simple, I need an heir and that woman is pretty enough. If I succeeded in my plan, I would use the woman until she bore me a son. Once she completed that task, I’d-”

                Louis felt his heart pound as the most sickening smile overtook the Lord’s face.

                “You’d what?” Louis demanded lowly, his sword quivering in his hand.

                Lord Wexler uttered his final words, “I planned on sending that bitch back to Scotland in pieces.”

                Rage. Pure, deep rage overtook Louis. Hearing that his beloved could have met with such an awful fate pushed Louis over the edge. Months of on and off again fighting, with anxious periods of waiting in the cold and his heart yarning for Eleanor came to ahead.

                Louis sliced Lord Wexler’s throat in one, fierce cut. The Lord collapsed face first onto the knight’s feet, the grass beneath him grew thick with crimson. He took a few breaths, gave himself a moment to collect himself.

                It was a very different scene moments later, when Louis rode into the battlefield with Lord Wexler’s lifeless body tied to the back of Sable. Upon seeing the knight dragging the Lord’s body across the field made both sides stop in an instant. Louis found Prince Harry, who approached him to inspect the dead body. He didn’t smile, kept his face neutral. Louis bore the same face as he looked over his shoulder at the Lord’s body.

It wasn’t something he enjoyed, killing another man. Even though this was an instance of war and it was clear Lord Wexler would never surrender to King Liam, it still wasn’t something worth gloating about. And Louis was thankful to see that, at least in the moment, the English and Scotland soldiers were not rejoicing in Wexler’s death either. No one on the Northern side seemed too devastated upon seeing their Lord slaughtered. If anything, the young men looked clearly stunned, but also a bit relieved as well.

Prince Harry turned to the crowd of Northern soldiers and addressed them loudly, “Your Lord is dead, gentlemen, killed in a noble spar.”

_“This isn’t exactly a fair and honorable fight, Sir Tomlinson,”_ Lord Wexler’s words rang through Louis’ mind when Prince Harry made that comment. So what if it wasn’t exactly noble? Louis didn’t believe that Lord Wexler lived up to the requirements to have a noble spar anyway.

“If you wish to continue this senseless fight, you lot fight in vain,” Prince Harry told them, “You are severely out numbered and now have no cause to continue this battle.”

Seeing the Northerners looking unsure, Louis felt compelled to chime in from his spot atop Sable.

“Gentlemen, I give you my word that King Liam will pardon you and all of York if your surrender now. No one will be taken prisoner and our armies are through killing anymore innocent men over this childish war. Surrender now to England and King Liam, and you will be on your way home to your wives and children, without any punishment brought upon you.”

Louis watched anxiously as the Northern soldiers looked at each other for a few moments in silence. And a murmur began amongst the soldiers, one that seemed to spread to the far end of the group. The knight was relieved to see the men dropping their swords to the ground. The hazy sun in the sky was soon shielded by a white flag being lifted high from the Northerners.

It was over.

At last, war was over.

~~~

                Later on that night back at the campsite, English soldiers celebrated with the Scots. Whatever wine and ale was left from their supplies dwindled down quickly as the night aged on. Men who had brought their instruments from home filled the evening air with snappy string music. Multiple fires roared on, along with hearty cheers and laughter from the men.

                Away from the battlefield and from the Northern men, they were free to celebrate their victory.

                Louis should have been one of the men to be rejoicing. Hell, he should have been the loudest, and the most drunk of all the men.

                But he wasn’t.

                The knight sat on the edge of the campsite, away from the lively groups of men around the fire. There were thin clouds in the sky, not enough to impose rain but enough to cover the stars. Louis’ half full cup felt heavy in his hand, the desire for wine on his tongue was no longer alive.

                “Louis,” the knight picked his head at the mention of his name. Prince Harry was grinning as he approached him. He was freshly washed and wearing some of his more regal clothes now that the war was over. Over the months, Louis had notice the prince had lost some of his boyish qualities. He was still charming, but more mannered and at times more opt to listening rather then talking. Prince Harry looked as though he was ten years older, with heavy bags under his eyes and the slightest stubble on his face.

War does that, changes people and makes then grow a harder shell. Louis could feel that same hardness in himself from the war as well.

“I expected to fight you celebrating,” Harry commented as he approached the knight. The Prince frowned upon seeing him up close, “You of all people should be partying, Louis. Why are you not?”

Louis shrugged sagely, not really sure why he was acting this way either, “I dunno. I guess, I’m a little anxious going back home.”

“You’re anxious to get back home?” Harry asked, sounding a bit confused. Louis just nodded, not wanting to explain himself to Harry. The prince sighed, and Louis glanced over to him upon hearing ruffled noises.

Prince Harry pulled a stack of neatly folded papers from his vest pocket. Louis sat up a little as Harry extended them towards him, but didn’t take them at first.

“I struggled for a long time on whether I should give these to you,” Prince Harry said lowly. He looked up at Louis dead in the eye, “My dear sister wrote often to me these past six months, giving me little updates on her life and England. She, um, also included letters for you, and asked me to give them to you.”

Louis’ eyes widened, “Your majesty-” Harry held his hand up, silencing him instantly.

“These letters are personal, too intimate to be between a knight and his Queen. I couldn’t even finish the first letter she sent to you, because it felt so wrong for me to intrude,” Prince Harry sighed and handed the letters closer to Louis. He gave the knight a hard look, “I sure hope you realize what you’re doing. And more then anything, you better protect my sister.”

“I-I will,” Louis spoke over the lump in his throat, “I promise.”

Harry nodded and placed the papers in Louis’ hand, “We leave tomorrow, just after sunrise. Goodnight Louis.”

Louis didn’t watch as the prince left. Instead, his eyes were set on the letters, feeling heavy and dainty in his hands all at the same time. Without even opening the first letter, Louis could smell the heather reeked pages. Instantly, the scent took Louis back to the gardens in Scotland with Eleanor, and his heart ached for her even more so somehow.

The knight rushed back to his tent, and secured the flaps with a knot. The party was still raging on just outside his tent, but Louis could not care. With shaky hands, Louis struck up a match and lit a candle. He held the letter up towards the light, and unfolded it. Dropping to the ground was a dried heather plant and Louis’ smile shook as he brought up to his nose and inhaled. With quick eyes, Louis read over the first letter:

_‘My dearest Louis,_

_My heart yearns for you at all hours of the day. I can’t say I am surprised that you went off to war, since you are noble to your country and would fight to protect your king. But I wish you told me, Louis-as it has been nearly a week since you’ve gone away, and I cannot sleep or eat without knowing you’re safe and alright._

_I keep thinking about what if this were all different. What if I wasn’t a princess and I was never bound to Liam? What if I was just a normal English girl that lived in the village, perhaps dyeing cloth or working on farms? Maybe I would work in the palace for the English royal family, and we met by chance in the servants’ hall? Or maybe you were the prince, or had a title of some sort, and my father allowed me to marry whoever I pleased?_

_I shouldn’t think such silly stories in my mind, but it helps the time pass and it keeps my anxiety about you tamed. Regardless, I hope that you know I’d chose you Louis, in any reality-I would always pick you, my love._

_You must be scolding me for writing this letter along with one to my dearest brother. But I could not send a letter out to you-it would look too suspicious if I sent a letter just to you. I’m sorry my love, I know it’s dangerous writing to you, but I must. I miss you too much, and I needed to trust that Harry will keep our little secret to himself._

_I hope this war ends soon, so that we may be reunited. I shouldn’t think of you so much, now that I am married-‘_

Louis had to stop reading for a second. Seeing that Eleanor is a married woman on paper with his own eyes-it’s too much for him. The knight pulled himself together, to accept this reality once more, and continued on reading.

_‘-But you’re always in my thoughts, my beloved. Especially now that you’re so far away from me, you’re all I can think of Louis. I worry for you, more so then I worry about myself or the state of this country. Between the two of us, I would be fine if it all crumbled down. I would be fine beings striped of my title as a Queen. I would be fine with these things, if I knew for certain we’d be reunited. It’s a terrible thing to say, I know it is. But it’s true, my Louis. The world could go to ruin, but everything would be fine as long as I am in your arms._

                _I’m counting down the moments until I will see you again, my love. Until then, fight with everything you have, and please be safe._

_Please return to me, Louis._

_Only yours, El’_

Louis lowered the letter, and let the words wash over him for a moment. It wasn’t long after that that the knight picked up the next letter, and then another one. With each letter, Louis can hear Eleanor’s voice reciting the words in his head. His tent is overwhelmed by heather plants and vanilla, and once again, Louis’ heart is aching for Eleanor.

                Fortunately, Louis would be reunited with his queen in just a manner of days, as well as his king.

                Louis didn’t sleep a wink that night, anxiety haunting him until the sun came up.

~~~

                Louis felt a surge of happiness deep in his gut when the palace came into view.

                The crew had been traveling for two days by that point, with everyone exhausted and ready to return home to their loved ones. Louis was eager to see his mother, and knew that she would litter his face with kisses. He was excited to see Zayn again, and even Niall too, knowing full well they would greet him with cheers and hugs. Seeing Liam once again, after months of being separated for the first time in their lives, Louis knew Liam would well up with tears.

                He just didn’t know how Eleanor would react once they saw each other again. More so, Louis really didn’t know how he would react to seeing Eleanor again. He knew it would be hard to act casual once they were in the same once more. He just hoped his eagerness to run into Eleanor’s arms and kiss her madly would be somewhat tamed.

                But Heavens, seeing the castle become closer and closer, Louis wondered how on Earth he ever survived months away from home and Eleanor.

                By the time the crew was walking through the drawn gates, it was nearing the middle of the afternoon. That didn’t seem to matter, because there was a crowd of townsfolk lining up the path towards the castle. The cheers were nearly deafening, and Louis couldn’t help but feel pride welling up inside his chest at the sight of their large smiles and shouts of praise and gratitude. One by one, soldiers veered off from the pack to find their loved ones. It was a beautiful sight, husbands being reunited with their wives, children and other family members. Louis was happy to see this, that this war brought a positive result and that most of their men were returning home. But Louis said a brief prayer for those soldiers who fought hard on the field but didn’t make it home. He prayed for the families whose loved one would be coming back home in a sack, and decided he couldn’t dwell on that for very long. It was, in fact, a joyous occasion.

                Coming up to the palace, Louis’ heart was racing. The heavy wooden doors were flung open from the inside and-

                And Louis bit back tears upon seeing his mother run up to him. The knight pulled on Sable’s reins until she stopped, and quickly hopped off his horse. Jay barreled into her son’s chest, nearly causing the man to fall backwards and topple on the ground. But Louis firmly planted his feet into the ground, baring the full weight of his mother and gladly accepting her tears in his chest.

                “My boy!” Jay cried out, her whole-body trembling but her hands were steady, and gripped into Louis’ skin. “I-I missed you so much Louis.”

                Hearing his mother’s voice again chokes Louis up, “I missed you too, m-mum.”

                Jay pulled back, but kept her hands on his shoulders. She looked over her son, and suddenly, Louis felt like he was a young boy under his mother’s watchful gaze. He missed her terribly, and could see the affects of her worrying over him for months as clear as day on her face. She had bags under her eyes, and Jay looked thinner, felt thinner in Louis’ arms. But none of that mattered now. He wiped a tear from his mother’s cheek before leaning in and kissing it sweetly.

                “King Liam is eager to see you, Lou,” Jay told him excitedly.

Louis swallowed thickly, “I was hoping to bathe before seeing the king.”

The mother brushed her son’s fringe out of his eyes, cringing at the length of it, “You have a full-on beard, Lou.”

The knight chuckled, and shrugged slightly, “I forgot to pack a blade.”

“Serves you right for running off to war as quickly as you did,” Jay scolding and Louis sighed. It was clear that Jay was still pretty upset with her son for his so called ‘rash’ decision to go off to war. And while that may have been the case, Louis tried to convince her (and himself) several times in letters exchanged between the two of them that one cannot ignore the call of war. Louis had a duty to serve, and that’s the only reason his mother needed to know why he left in such a hurry.

Louis fondly rolled his eyes, “Tell his majesty I must freshen up a little.”

“Half hour tops,” Jay told her boy, with a weak pointed stare before pulling Louis back into her arms. She breathed deeply against him, “I love you, my boy.”

Louis’ lips ached from smiling, “Love you too.”

Slipping into the palace on his mother’s arms, Louis could sense a pair of eyes on him. He glanced over towards the drawn curtains by the front windows in the hall. In passing, looking over his shoulder as his mother dragged him along, Louis only caught a glimpse of a pair of brown eyes. They were familiar, gorgeous brown eyes that peered barely over the heavy curtain. No one else seemed to noticed said amber eyes, for only Louis stared hauntingly at those as he was being pulled into another room.

Louis’ heart could not stop banging against his ribcage.

~~~

                Thirty minutes only gave Louis enough time to watch his face and trim his beard so it wasn’t as stringy as before. There wasn’t enough time to properly shave it all off, as he wanted to, but Louis figured he could do that when he took a bath that night. He then dressed in a tunic his mum picked out for him and rubbed oils onto his neck to smell good.

                A servant brought a fine piece of cloth and some twine. Louis wrapped Lord Wexler’s sword with the cloth around the blade and tied the twine around it. The sword was now perfectly dressed up for a king.

                Louis forced his hands to stop shaking as he walked towards the throne room. The guards stood still on either side of the door as Louis approached. The knight hesitantly touched the door before opening up.

The soft murmuring of conversations came to an instant stop when Louis walked in. The entire royal court had their eyes on Louis as he walked to his king, but the knight wasn’t paying attention to them. No, his eyes were set on his beloved Eleanor.

And God, Eleanor was looking directly at him as well.

Her beauty was nearly too much for Louis. It had been far too long since the true vision of his beloved. He spent hours of the long, endless days of the past six months daydreaming about ever inch of Eleanor’s face. And in that moment, it took everything within Louis not to run over to his beloved and kiss her with all his might. It was especially hard to resist her, because Eleanor was dressed up to the nines. Beside her fancy blue velvet gown with silver flowers embedded into the dress, she was also draped in one of the royal shawls lined in fur and beads, and a crown with sapphires adorned her head.

Eleanor looks like the most striking Queen Louis had ever seen.

Louis felt heat under his collar, under Eleanor’s fierce gaze, so he forced himself to look at Liam.

His King looked vastly different since the last time Louis’ saw him. He had a neat beard on his chin, and a heavy chain with jewels of every color was worn proudly on his chest. Adorned on his head was the same crown that Liam’s grandfather and father wore before him. It had a silver band as well, with a blue velvet center and a trim of fur along the base. Sapphires and diamonds lined the arches of the crown that led to the center of the crown on top, an oval shaped diamond to finish off the crown. It was truly a Payne family treasure trove in one crown, and Liam wore it well.

Louis approached his King, and kneeled before him, his arms extended to present the sword.

“Your Majesty,” the knight greeted him formally, “I have killed Lord Wexler in your honor. He poses no threat to you, my King. Here I present to you Lord Wexler’s sword.”

The knight waited a beat, and then another one in silence. Then Louis heard footsteps approach him, and he saw Liam’s shoes before him. A hand, one so familiar to Louis, is placed on his shoulder.

“Rise, Louis,” King Liam ordered him. Louis did what his king told him to.

Liam was beaming at him, to the both that there was tears in his eyes. His hand cupped the back of Louis’ neck.

“Dear old friend,” Liam greeted him softly. He pulled Louis into a deep hug, one that warmed Louis to his core. The king patted Louis’ back roughly twice before admitting, “My brother, it’s so good to see you again.”

Louis caught a glimpse of Eleanor. Her hands were clinching the arm rests on her throne, as if to force her to stay. Her eyes were on Louis once more, just as fierce as before, and Louis gulped silently, “It’s good to see you again, my King-”

“None of that,” Liam scolded fondly at his friend. He pulled back and smiled, “No formalities between us, Lou. Not after all these years, not after all you’ve done for me.”

“I did my job,” Louis said flatly.

Liam cracked a smile, “That you did, Louis. You did an exceptional job and have done so for many years. My country will praise you, I will be forever indebted to you-”

“Li,” Louis chided, but the king ignores him.

“My wife feels safe for the first time since this war started,” Liam smiled excitedly after telling Louis this, “I know that the Queen will sleep well tonight, along with every other English women, now that this war is done.”

Louis glanced over at Eleanor and the two share a brief look before looking away.

“Again, Your Majesty,” Louis said hesitantly, “I just did what I vowed to do when I took this job.”

King Liam looked at his knight sternly before caving in with a nod, “Fair enough, Lou. This war has made you more humble then you ought to be.”

No, Louis thought in defiance of his King. Having to look countless men in the eye as he killed them made Louis humble.

“Come,” King Liam grinned at Louis again guided him from the back of his shoulder. As they walk out of the throne room and toward the dining hall, Louis was aware that Queen Eleanor was following at a distance behind them with her Ladies-in-waiting, five young Nobel women to be exact. Louis looked over his shoulder quickly and saw that this time, Eleanor wasn’t looking back at him, but rather down at her joined hands as she walked. Louis managed to look away without being noticed that he was indeed staring at Eleanor’s lovely cheekbones.

“We have a grand feast waiting for you. Surely you must be sick of stews and nuts?” Liam asked his trusted knight.

Louis laughed at that, and shook his head, “More then you could possibly imagine.”

“We got venison on the table tonight,” King Liam told Louis and just the thought of it made the knight’s stomach rumble with hunger, “And Zayn’s been on pins and needles to see you again, dear friend.”

Louis beamed, “I’m so glad to be back home.”

“We’re all glad to have you back, Louis,” King Liam told Louis earnestly.

And once again, Louis felt those damned brown eyes staring at him.

~~~

                Louis greeted Zayn with a long, deep hug.

                He thought about Zayn a lot while he was at war, and Perrie and Niall as well. And thankfully, Zayn filled Louis in on how all of them were doing the war. Zayn took the temporary position of head knight very well, and continued to train other knights. Niall, apparently, had become ore muscular in the months of war, spending most of his days lifting heavy weights and working on his sword fighting. Zayn said that Niall is shaping out to be a fine knight and Louis couldn’t be prouder.

                “Perrie wants a baby,” Zayn told Louis under his breath, just over the other chatter at the table. Of course just as Louis is sipping on wine. The news nearly caused Louis to choke.

                “Really?” Louis asks.

                Zayn nodded and shrugged, “I mean, we’ve been married for a while now, over two years. She’s still working at the sew shop and was just named as the head seamstress’ apprentice.”

                “That’s wonderful,” Louis told his friend, “Please give my congratulations to Perrie.”

                “Will do,” Zayn promised, but then sighed, “It’s just—we fight about starting a family. I want to, believe me I do. But Perrie would have to leave her job to raise a child, and I know how much she loves working as a seamstress. I just don’t know how we would make this all work with a child in the mix.”

                Louis nodded as he thought, but Liam’s laugh pulled him away from Zayn. Looking down at the other end of the long wooden table, King Liam was holding his cup up for a quick toast for those near him. Queen Eleanor sat beside him, and Louis couldn’t help but notice how dead she looked. Everything within begged him to go by her side, but Louis stayed reluctantly where he was.

                “She missed you,” Zayn whispered to Louis. The head knight made himself look away, and ignore the nagging, burning feeling to go over to her. Zayn went on, “Didn’t talk to me for months because she was mad I was part of your plot to go to war and left her in the cold.”

                Louis mumbled, “Shit,” into his cup.

                But of course, Zayn had to go on, “Every day she asked me if I heard anything from you.”

                “How’s their marriage going?” just saying the words made the back of Louis’ throat sting. Zayn shrugged sagely.

                “Fine, I guess—all things considered,” Zayn said, “Word amongst the maids is that they only go into their shared chambers once a week, sometimes once every other week—”

                “Fuck, Z,” Louis hissed, his blood simmer at the thought of his beloved in bed with other man.

                Zayn sighed, “Sorry, mate.”

                “Sir Tomlinson,” a man from the other side of the table spoke up, making the table quieter. Louis looked over to the voice and noted that King Liam’s advisor, Paul Franklin, was speaking to him, “Congratulations on your war efforts. Lord Wexler was a devil of man.”

                Louis nodded tensely, wondering where this conversation was going, “Indeed, and thank you.”

                “My daughter Lydia is a lady-in-waiting for her majesty Queen Eleanor,” Paul informed him, and pointed to a young lady with a round face, ghostly pale skin and black hair that shined in the candle light. She nodded curtly at Louis and gave a shy smile at him. Louis waved awkwardly at her, all too aware that Eleanor was watching this unfold.

                “What an honor for you and your family, Mr. Franklin,” Louis said politely. From the corner of his eye, he saw Eleanor’s glare on him, but Louis had to ignore it.

                “It is,” Paul agreed easily, “Lydia is beautiful, is she not?”

                Louis flinched as he heard the harsh sound of cutlery scraping against a plate in Eleanor’s direction.

                “She’s lovely,” Louis commented hollowly. He coughed as he stood up and faced his king, “Excuse me, your Grace. I am exhausted from traveling and wish to retire for the evening.”

                King Liam nodded, and cracked a smile, “Of course, dear Louis. Please rest up well tonight.”

                Louis held back a scoff. He doubted he’ll ever get a good night’s sleep ever again.

~~~

                The hot bath water soothed Louis’ aching bones.

                It had been months since he had a proper bath, or at least the kind of baths Louis had become used to. On the battlefield, Louis could only spare a quick bath in the creek once a week at best. He was never alone on the battlefield no matter what he did and included bathing. At most, Louis got maybe five minutes to try and clean himself off.

                Bathing back at the palace was a glorious blessing. The water was piping hot and steamy. The servants put in mint leaves into the bathing tub and so his whole quarters smelled of calming mint. The herbed water helped relaxed his stiff muscles, and within seconds of being in the tub, Louis felt cleaner then he had in months. He slipped under the water and stayed there for a moment before peaking his head back up in a loud inhale. He wiped the water from his eyes and leaned back against the tub, his eyes slipping closed and his body completely relaxed.

                Some time passes and for a few blissful moments since being home, Louis felt completely at ease.

                And then, Louis heard the door to his chamber open. Damn servants.

                Louis sighed deeply, but kept his eyes closed, “I said do not disturb me. I will not require your services until tomorrow-”

                “Lou,” her voice was so meek, so soft and lovely.

                The knight opened his eyes quickly, his body sat up briskly.

                Eleanor was in his chambers. Louis’ queen was standing at the end of his bathing tub.

                Louis spoke, stunned, “El.”

                The two just stared at each other for a moment or so. It felt a bit erotic for Louis. He was naked and wet from his tub, and Eleanor stood over him like a mountain in her night gown, just staring at him. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed deeply and Louis couldn’t help but watch her breast as she did this.

                Then.

                And then, Eleanor was moving to the side of the tub. Louis held his breath as his queen knelt down the side of the tub. She looked like a servant as she grabbed a washcloth from the table next to the bath and dipped it in Louis’ bath water, dangerously close to his sex.

                “What are you doing?” Louis asked thickly as Eleanor moved the cloth to under his eye.

                Eleanor muttered, “I’m helping you bathe.”

                “Stop,” Louis demanded, but his voice was strained, for at that moment Eleanor moved the cloth down to his neck. God, it felt good, way too good for this to be pure.

                “Your hair is long,” Eleanor commented, almost in awe.

                Louis bit his lip, “Do you like it?”

                Eleanor brushed his hair behind his ear. She smiled softly, “Yes, I do. Maybe a little trim just to freshen it up.”

                “Okay,” Louis whispered, and Eleanor moved the cloth over his chest, moving from shoulder to shoulder. He sighed deeply, and willed himself to not get too worked up.

                They couldn’t do this, yet Louis physically could not make her stop.

                “I do like you clean shaved though,” Eleanor commented mildly. Louis shuttered as her gentle finger glided over the rough patch of hair on his neck. She looked entranced as she touched him, and her hand lowered an inch or so down onto his chest.

                Louis flinched a little in response, “El,” he pleaded with her in a whisper.

                “Sorry,” Eleanor muttered, taking her hand away reluctantly. She looked so broken, so torn up and Louis’ couldn’t handle it. He knew he needed to banish Eleanor from his chambers, needed to cast her out from his life and never see her again.

                But Louis couldn’t do that, he just couldn’t.

                “Darling,” he said lowly, instantly regretting saying the pet name for Eleanor. Because as soon as he said it, Eleanor absolutely preened at it. Her eyes were wide eyed and her rosy lips stretched in a beautiful smile.

                Heavens, he was in trouble.

                Louis spoke up again, “Can you hand the towel to me, please?”

                “Of course,” Eleanor said quickly and shuffled up to her feet. While she was turned away, Louis stood up in the tub. He knew this was wrong, entirely all wrong to stand before his queen naked. But Louis hated how flustered Eleanor made him, and that nagging part of him wanted to make Eleanor blush too.

                It was worth it, and Louis felt incredibly victorious when Eleanor turned around with the towel extended to him. A small gasp escaped her lips, and Louis stood proudly as Eleanor stared at his bare body. Louis smirked as he took the towel and wrapped it around his waist.

                Eleanor sat by the fire while Louis got dressed. Once in his night tunic, Louis sat on the floor and joined his beloved. She glowed in the firelight, and gave a private, shy smile for the knight’s eyes only. They sat apart, with half a foot of space between them and the two just stared at each other timidly. It was peaceful, Louis thought, because the past few months had been filled with endless loud moments.

                “Did you get hurt?” Eleanor asked, sounding almost scared for the answer.

                Louis shrugged, his eyes locked on the fireplace, “Just some small nicks here and there. I faired better then most other men.”

                “Thank Heavens,” Eleanor sighed happily, and Louis gave a tiny smile for her, “I prayed for you morning, noon and night every day we were parted, Lou. You never strayed far from my mind. I—I worried for your safety, and even became ill when new information would come form the frontlines.”

                “Dearest Eleanor,” Louis sighed upon hearing this. His hand shook at his side, aching to touch her velvet soft skin and her luscious curls. But the knight remained steadfast, and clinched his nails into his palm.

                “I’ve missed you so much,” Eleanor whispered softly.

                Louis replied simply, and truthfully, “I missed you too, El.”

                Eleanor asked, “My brother gave you my letters, yes?”

                “Only once the war was over,” Louis told her, “Har—Prince Harry felt conflicted about the letters, and about the kind of relationship we had.”

                The queen sat up, frowning.

                “What we had?” she repeated, voice strained.

                Louis lowered his head, “El—”

                “Did you find another woman while you away Louis?” the question shocked Louis because, no. No he did not meet another woman at war. And even if he had, no woman would compare to Eleanor, ever. It would be fruitless to try and romance another woman, when Louis’ heart already beloved to another one.

                “Of course not,” Louis dismissed. Eleanor looked a bit relieved by this, but the knight quickly reminded her, “But El, what we had before—we can’t do anything.”

                Eleanor nodded, her eyes staying on the floor, “I know. I just—I hated not being able to talk to you today, Lou. When I heard you were back I, I just had to see you for myself, just to be sure that you were safe.”

                Louis smiled fondly, “I thought I saw you behind those curtains.”

                Eleanor blushed madly, but smiled as she went on, “I know I’m married, and we can’t do anything. But Heavens Lou, that doesn’t mean my feelings for you went away as soon as Liam and I joined hands.”

                “Liam’s a good man,” Louis tried to remind her, “And he’s a king.”

                “Liam is both of those things,” Eleanor agreed, “But my heart doesn’t belong to him—”

                “No,” Louis stubbornly gritted out.

                Eleanor sighed, her fingers locked tightly around each other, “I love you Louis.”

                “El,” the knight said, nearly scolding her.

                “You promised you’d find a way for us to be together,” Eleanor said, her voice growing weak.

                Louis closed his eyes, unable to see how much he was hurting her, “El—”

                “You lied to me,” Eleanor said lowly, flatly. She moved back an inch or so, just barely away from Louis. But he noticed it. He wanted to reach out to her, to pull Eleanor in his arms and never be away from her again.

                But.

                “El,” he sighed.

                But Eleanor shook her head, “I can’t believe I trusted you. I—You promised you were going to save me.”

                Louis scoffed bitterly at that, “Save you? From what exactly? You’re a Queen, Eleanor, married to one of the most powerful men in the world. You have everything you could ever possibly want at your disposal. Why the Hell would you need to be saved?”

                Eleanor shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes, “I don’t have everything at my disposal.”

                “El,” he rolled his eyes. But Eleanor went on.

                “If I did, if I were really in charge, you’d be mine in a heartbeat, Lou,” Eleanor told him flatly, “But instead, I’m stuck in a loveless marriage.”

                “That’s not what I hear,” Louis mumbled coldly.

                Eleanor eyed him, “What?”

                Louis should’ve bitten his tongue. He should’ve stopped and retracted his words somehow.

                But he didn’t.

                “You and your husband spend one night a week in the shared quarters,” he told her flatly. And, and seeing Eleanor quake visibly because of his voice was something Louis would punish himself for all his days.

                And apparently, the queen had had enough. Eleanor stood up quickly, and mutely walked towards the door. Louis didn’t stop her, knew he couldn’t stop her even if he wanted to. It was for the best, and maybe one day Eleanor would realize it too.

                Before leaving him, Eleanor said, “You’re not the man I fell in love with. That man left for war and didn’t come back home.”

                Louis hugged himself tighter and watched as ambers flaked off the logs in the fire and floated up in the chimney.

                “I can’t believe I prayed for you,” Eleanor continued, her voice poisonous, “I begged God to keep you safe and to bring you back to me, Lou. I worried for you at all hours of the day and yearned for your touch at night.”

                The knight bit his lip.

                Eleanor brought down the final blow, “You promised me, Louis. Our memories together were the only thing that made me smile these past several months. And you just killed them all, and I will never forgive you for giving me false hope.”

                Louis shuttered as the door slammed shut.

                He didn’t sleep at all that night.

~~~

                Louis stoked his bare, smoothed chin as he walked towards the dining hall for breakfast a few mornings later.

                It was funny to Louis how he longed to return home during the war, but now that he was in the palace, he wanted to escape. He hadn’t been getting any sleep, and the days dragged on into nothingness now that Louis had nothing to do. King Liam insisted he take a month or so off so Louis could recuperate, but being in the palace with nothing to do was terrible.

                Because.

                Because little signs of King Liam and Queen Eleanor’s relationship was saturated in the stony walls of the castle. It seemed everywhere he went, little signs of the happy royal couple where there. No one told Louis that there was a portrait of the two in the royal hall, but he found it one day during his many hours of walking. Eleanor was so striking in the painting that it took Louis’ breath away, causing him pain to the chest.

                The maids and other servants also spoke openly about the royal marriage. The maids loved for tiny interactions between Liam and Eleanor, like how tenderly they would look at each other over dessert or how said Liam would look to leave his wife for his royal duties. It was sickening, really, and Louis could only glare in displeasure as the servants spoke his ear off about them, including his own mum.

                “King Liam loves it when Queen Eleanor’s hair is in a braid,” Jay informed her son as she walked with him to the dining hall. Funny, Louis would have to disagree. He loved the wild curls Eleanor had, and craved to touch them daily.

                Louis willed these thoughts away.

                “Splendid,” Louis replied hollowly.

                For the fifth-hundred time since Louis’ been home, Jay asked, “Louis dear, are you sure you’re okay? You just look—”

                “Fine,” Louis insisted, “I’m fine, mum—I promise.”

                Jay didn’t press him on the matter.

                “Louis!” King Liam greeted his trusted friend as Louis walked into the hall. He stopped mid-step because Liam’s hand was on Eleanor’s lap beside him. The Queen didn’t look up at Louis, kept her eyes trained on her breakfast but Louis so badly wanted to see her eyes.

                They were just some of the causes of his nightmares, but Louis still longed to see Eleanor’s eyes.

                “Good morning, Your Maj—”

                Liam interrupted his knight, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Louis,” the King demanded lightly, “Honestly, it’ll be so weird if you keep calling me that. Nothing’s changed.”

                Everything had changed, actually.

                But Louis just nodded and pulled on a false smile.

                Louis sat down next to Zayn at the table, who commented, “You shaved?”

                “Yes,” Louis confirmed as he placed a grape in his mouth.

                Zayn commented, “I was just getting used to you in a beard, too.”

                And without missing a beat, Louis commented, “I always preferred being clean shaved.”

                Eleanor was watching him then, Louis just knew it. But he didn’t dare look in her direction.

                “Oh Louis!” King Liam spoke up from the other end of the table, “I finally thought of how I can properly thank you for your services in the war.”

                Louis sighed. Liam had been bugging Louis for days on how he could show his gratitude for slaying Lord Wexler.

                “Your—Liam, please. We’ve been over this so many times. It was my honor to fight for your and this country,” he repeated the same mantra, “I do not need to be rewarded for doing my job.”

                “My counsel suggested we put a statue of you in the town square,” Liam suggested anyway. Louis restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

                “That’s…a bit extreme.”

                Liam waved him off, “But you’re worth it Louis. You’re far too modest about what you’ve done for this country. I simply cannot just pat you on the back and say, ‘Good lad,’ as if you were a dog.”

                Actually, yes. That sounded like a wonderful idea.

                “Liam,” Louis chided, “I must decline. As lovely as it was for you to suggest that, I can’t accept it.” He insisted.

                The King sighed, “Come Lou—I have to do something for you.”

                “No, you don’t,” Louis said pointedly, but then forced a grin, so he didn’t come off too strong, “I’m sorry but I’m fine returning to the way things were before.”

                He wasn’t really fine with it, but he had to pretend to be.

~~~

                On his fifth night of being back home, Louis couldn’t take it anymore.

                He needed sleep, desperately needed it. He tried drinking a cup of wine, but it only left him with a minor buzz and didn’t help him sleep a wink. He tried exerting himself throughout the day by practicing his sword fighting and swimming countless laps in the lake nearby. Still, the high physical activity didn’t help him sleep that night. Louis resorted to using lavender oil on his neck, but the smell was too overpowering, and again didn’t help him sleep.

                Louis needed drastic measures and fast.

                He waited until supper ended to go on a walk in the royal gardens. Since being home, Louis kept himself busy in other means that he never had time to enjoy daily walks like he used to before the war. A part of Louis felt revived with each step he took in the gardens. The flowers were just in bloom, and Louis couldn’t wait until the summer for the garden to grow and swell to become fully lush.

                The heather plant stood alone in a patch of the garden. Louis held his candle towards it and was surprised to see how much the plant had thrived since coming to England. The shrub around Louis’ knees and boasted budding pink petals. Getting closer to it, Louis is overwhelmed by the sweet floral notes of the flower and felt at ease. He wondered though, a s he reached for the plant, if Eleanor visited the plant often. Did she herself tend to it, or did the gardener? And would Eleanor notice if someone had taken a small heather flower from the bunch?

                Louis had to risk it.

                Plucking off a decent size bunch of heather from the plant, Louis tucked it into his vest before briskly walking out of the garden.

                The fresh heather plant didn’t help Louis sleep that night. But being surrounded by the nostalgic scent of his forbidden lover made Louis feel that he was in Eleanor’s bed again.

~~~

                Sable didn’t seem too please to be taken away from her stable.

                Louis had given his trusted horse plenty of time to recover, of course he did. He allowed his horse days of staying in the stables to be hand fed oats and apples, and only visited her once a day to take he rout on a light trot around the stables to keep her activity up. Truth was, Sable fought alongside Louis during the war. Each battle Louis entered, he rode into it upon Sable’s back. The horse was quick, managing to miss nearly all attempts soldiers made to injure her or Louis. But there was one incident about halfway through the war, where a Northerner had slashed one of Sable’s back legs. Thankfully, it was just a surface wound and Louis cut the throat of the man who dared to harm his stead. But with the chaos of the war, Sable only had about two days to recover. Louis knew coming that his horse would never be the same, he could never heed her to ride as fast as she did before the injury. But she was still good for trivial rides of pleasure here and there, as long as they weren’t too long.

                Louis just needed to get out of the palace, just for a little while.

                Still, Sable neighed in small protest when Louis rode her out of the stable just after breakfast, heading straight for the meadow. Jay knew of her son’s day trip and packed him more then enough water and food. Louis knew she didn’t want him to go, not when Louis had just returned not even two weeks prior from months of war. But still, Jay gave her boy a sweet kiss on the cheek at the stables and watched Louis trot away from the castle and beyond the city.

                The weather was cool for early March. The sun was high in the sky with absolutely no clouds, which was rare for spring in England, but the heat of the sun was muted. The wind was gentle upon Louis’ skin and slightly cold but not enough to pull on a wool blanket. Nature was a lovely sight in the meadows, with plump bees keeping busy from flower to flower, merry birds singing tunes as they whizzed across the sky, and Louis even spotted a rabbit’s nest buried on the edge of the meadow.

                Louis laid amongst the flowers for hours, taking in the calming heat of the sun and hundreds of flower petals tickling his skin. He took off his vest after arriving here and let Sable trot off to the creek nearby to get a drink. He didn’t need to watch his horse or anyone else for that matter while he was here, alone in nature without a single care. Or at least, that’s how it should have went in Louis’ mind. But of course, that’s not why it went. His mind was too cluttered with memories of the last time he was in this very meadow. How Louis had found Eleanor in the same position he was in now. Louis bit his lips as he recalled his first kiss with Eleanor was in this very spot, after he went out to find her because she too just needed a moment away from the palace.

                The knight ached for those days, for every slight touch the princess gave him, and for every time she glanced in his direction innocently. Louis craved those moments when he and Eleanor were together. Now though, Louis couldn’t have her, not while Eleanor wore the same crest as his king. And besides, Eleanor hated him now. Louis had to be the strong one and not give in to temptation, and Eleanor hated him for that. In some ways, Louis didn’t think it was fair for her to act this way. He was just doing what was best, but at the same time Louis hated himself for doing this too.

                Louis was foolish to make a promise he knew he couldn’t keep.

                He still made it anyway, just to keep Eleanor happy for a little while longer.

                Now though, after several days without any interaction with Eleanor, Louis regretted every single thing he ever said or done.

                He ate lunch and dinner in the meadow, dinner being a piece of dried beef, some raw carrots and a roll. Sable munched on small flowers and Louis gave her his apple just before they headed back to the palace. Dusk was just settling over the land when they trotted to the stables. The stable keepers had already gone home for the day, which Louis expected, so it was peaceful and quiet as Louis unsaddled Sable and put her back into her holding.

                Heading back to the palace, Louis happened to look over to the gardens. On a whim, Louis decided to venture in the gardens for a quick stroll, hoping the extra exercise would help him sleep better that night. When he came up to where the heather plant was, the knight stopped when he spotted Eleanor. Dressed in a nightgown and a robe, the queen hummed to herself as she tended to her plant. Louis’ chest swelled with adoration as he watched Eleanor take out his dagger from her robe and used it to trim off some of the dead buds.

                She still had it; Eleanor still had every last bit of Louis.

                Louis tried taking a step back to leave quickly, but his foot snapped a twig.

                Eleanor whipped around, the dagger pointed towards Louis’ direction, “Who’s there?”

                Louis gulped and stepped forward from behind the hedge. Once he presented himself to his queen, Eleanor lowered the dagger. Her eyes were wide, and a surprised breath escaped her lips.

                “Louis,” she said lowly.

                The man jerked a quick nod, “Forgive me, I just—felt like having a walk tonight.”

                Eleanor gave a knowing look, “You went to the very edge of the garden on the other side of the castle first?”

                And well, Louis couldn’t say anything to that, other than Eleanor knew him far too well.

                “My apologizes,” Louis insisted, “I-I didn’t know you were—I’ll be going now—”

                “Where were you today?” she asked, curiously. Louis pursed his lips before admitting the truth.

                “I went for a ride to the meadows,” he said. He closed his eyes and sighed before adding, “I just—wanted to get away for the day.”

                Eleanor remained silent, her hands still on the heather bush. Louis couldn’t help but notice how her robe and nightgown were white. It reminded him of Eleanor on her hastened wedding day, how beautiful and utterly heartbroken she was. Louis could see that same empty look in her eye now and hated knowing that he was the cause for it now.

                Eleanor asked nonchalantly, “The same meadows where we kissed?”

                “Yes,” Louis said thickly. The queen smirked.

                “You wanted to get away from what exactly?” Eleanor questioned, sounding sincere. Louis hated more then ever in that moment how easy it was to be honest with Eleanor, and how he could hardly conceal his feelings when talking to her.

                Louis still tried to lie to her.

                “Just…life,” he commented. Eleanor smiled cunningly.

                “You know, I wanted to get away so many times these past few months,” she said.

                The knight eyed her closely, “Really?” The queen nodded.

                “I can’t really leave the palace, except to go out in the gardens,” Eleanor says, “And ever since I got married to a man I do not love—”

                “El—” a pained sigh escaped Louis.

                “I had to take on the ladies of the court,” she explained, voice growing more agitated, “I have five stuck up, selfish women that follow me around every day. They help me dress, read my letters to me, patch up my dresses, teach me English traditions—all in the hopes of getting on my good side for now so that I can suggest them as proper women for my husband’s higher up male friends as wives.”

                Louis grimaced.

                Eleanor let out a bitter chuckle, “And they don’t give a damn about me, is the thing. Like, it’s so funny to watch these conceded women fawn over me at all hours of the day, but then talk shit about me at parties. They think I’m barbaric being from Scotland, and I have to sit there and silence to them mock my family and homeland, but I cannot say anything back because that would be improper of me!”

                Louis couldn’t speak. Jesus, he knew that pretty much all upper-class women were brats who were ladies in waiting but he never figured any of them would be mean to Eleanor. Why would they be? Eleanor was so sweet, and kind and gentle. And she’s the God damn Queen as well! Why would anyone have the audacity to be rude to their Queen?

                “So yeah,” Eleanor continued, scoffing a little, “I know about wanting to escape the castle—I wanted to do it every day every since you left for war.”

                “El, please,” Louis whimpered.

                Eleanor looked directly at him, and said no shame, “At night, when I missed you so much I couldn’t sleep—I’d sneak off to your chambers.”

                God in Heaven, why did Eleanor have to tell him that.

                “I missed you so much, Lou,” Eleanor went on, because she couldn’t just stop there. An almost devilish grin took over her lips, “And Jay wouldn’t let any of the servants touch a thing in your chambers—she wanted to leave it just the way it was before you left for war. So your bedsheets still smelled like you for months after you were gone. And I spent many nights along in your bed, surrounded by your scent—”

                “Jesus,” Louis sighed.

                Eleanor grinned cheekily, “Those nights in your chamber, tucked in your bed, I was finally able to sleep. Even from hundreds of miles away, you were still comforting me, Lou.”

                Louis wanted to kiss, wanted to reach out and kiss those painfully tempting lips. He wanted to hold Eleanor’s body, wanted to play with her hair until the end of his days. He wanted her, in every way imaginable.

                But he couldn’t have her.

                Eleanor cut off a small bunch of heather flowers from her plant. She turned to Louis and smiled sweetly as she pocketed his dagger back in her robe. Louis remained still, held his breath as Eleanor went to leave. However, she stopped once she was right next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He felt Eleanor’s pinky against the side of his wrist, and the small, innocent gesture made Louis quake. He couldn’t look at her, because if he did he couldn’t resist her. But he was having difficulty resisting her in that moment regardless.

                “I know what you’re doing is what you feel is for the best, Lou,” Eleanor whispered to him, “But your efforts to make me stop loving you is only wasting your strength. I still love you, Louis, and I always will love you, no matter where we are or who we’re with. I will always long to have you, and I feel that God wills us to be together.”

                Louis closed his eyes, choosing to ignore her rather then speak and for Eleanor to notice how weak he was because of her.

                Eleanor left with him with a sincere inquiry, “I do hope the heather is helping you sleep better.”

                Her pinky moved away from his wrist, and it took everything within Louis not to go run after her.

                The night waged on, and Louis couldn’t sleep a wink.

~~~

                Despite the constant exhaustion, Louis took Zayn up on his offer to help Niall’s fighting skills by the creek one afternoon a few days later.

                Niall had indeed bulked up since Louis had seen him last. Gone were the days of Niall being a scrawny little weakling--Niall looked like a full grown man. Louis had to do a double take when he first saw the young knight because he looked twenty pounds heavier then before, all of it being muscles now. At first, Louis would have to admit that the thought of going up against Niall had intimidated him.

                But, after an hour or so of training and fifty rounds of sword fighting practice, Louis barely broke a sweat while Niall was drenched in it.

                “Jesus!” Niall wheezed from his spot. Louis chuckled as Niall tried to catch his breath, his body laid out of the creek. He smirked at the young man and bite into his apple triumphantly, “How—can you possibly be that good at fighting after you spent months at work?”

                Zayn rolled his eyes and chucked a roll at Niall, “Because Lou trained everyday while he was away, smartass!” Niall groaned and rubbed his palms into his eyes.

                “I’ll never be good at fighting,” Niall wailed, “I might as well join the guards at the tower and shoot intruders with my crossbow.”

                “Nah,” Louis told him, “You’re far too small to be a tower guard. You got the strength of a knight now, ya just need to work on your sword skills. In a few months’ time, I reckon you might beat me in a practice fight—if I’m having an off day that is.”

                Niall groans, “God, I can still taste blood.”

                Louis laughed, and Zayn shoved Niall’s shoulder, “Grow up you sissy.”

                A cackle of a woman caught the attention of the three men. Louis saw on the other side of the creek that Eleanor’s five ladies in waiting were approaching. He sat up, causing the other two knights to look over as well.

                “Ugh,” Niall sighed when he saw the women.

                Zayn scoffed and agreed, “Yeah, fucking snakes—everyone of them.”

                “Do tell,” Louis requested, intrigued.

                “They’re quite open about how much they dislike the Queen, mainly because she’s a Scot,” Niall told him, and Louis rolled his eyes.

                “Then why did they agree to be part of the court?” he asked.

                Zayn explained, “Because it’s bloody tradition that’s why. Queen Eleanor didn’t have a choice, she had to have the top society women as her ladies in waiting.”

                “They do what they’re supposed to do,” Niall chimed in, “But always give snide remarks about the Queen. Mainly they’re just jealous that King Liam is married to Queen Eleanor, so they must be nasty to her for some reason. It’s fucking gross.”

                Louis watched the women snicker at something Lady Franklin said. God they weren’t even being discreet about making fun of their own Queen in broad daylight. A twinge of disgust twisted Louis’ gut when he heard them do exaggerated and poorly attempted Scottish accents. It looked like, form Louis’ perspective that, that Lady Franklin was the ringleader of this wretched pack, and all the other ladies followed her lead and command.

                “Why are they wearing all the same necklaces?” Louis asked once he noticed it. All five of them were wearing long necklaces with thing silver chains and some sort of bulb that sat above their stomachs.

                Zayn spoke up, “Again, tradition. Apparently, every lady in waiting is presented those necklaces once they become one. It began with King Liam’s great-great grandmother, Queen Marry, who gave those necklaces to distinguish them in society as a lady of the court. Once they get married off or leave the court, they must return the necklace to the Queen, so the tradition can live on.”

                Funny, Louis thought. He didn’t recall Queen Karen ladies of the court wearing the jewelry. Then again, he never paid much attention to the women of the court before. They all were usually stuck up, and never cared for Louis mainly because of his inferior class.

                “And word in the palace is,” Niall spoke up, “Sir Franklin is eager to marry off his daughter, Lydia. And he is rather impressed by you Louis. He bragged about how he has a plan to get you two together and how you’re gonna be his son-in-law come next spring.”

                Louis smirked wickedly.

                “Well,” he stood up from the ground, and brushed off the dirt form his trousers, “I better go meet my future wife, yeah?”

                “Lou,” Zayn said warningly, but Louis was already wading through to the quiet, rushing creek.

                The ladies noticed Louis coming up to them, and giggled flirtingly. God, Louis wanted to gag, but not before he messed with the ringleader.

                “Lady Franklin,” Louis stopped in front of her, and the poor pale woman was blushing mad, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly acquainted. I’m Sir Louis Tomlinson.”

                Lady Franklin looked at the other ladies and smiled as if she won a prize before coming up to Louis and extending her hand to him, “A pleasure to meet you, Sir Tomlinson. You must call me Lydia though—I insist!”

                Louis forced himself to play along for now, and kissed her hand. The other girls let out giddied, high pitched laughs. It was positively sickening.

                “I must say, that necklace you are wearing is just lovely,” Louis commented, “Where is it from?”

                Lydia scoffed, “It was a gift from Queen Hell-anor.” The girls laughed at the immature joke.

                “Oh?” Louis questioned, and Lydia went on gleefully.

                “She is just barbaric,” she commented, and Louis forced himself to remain calm, “She once requested haggis for dinner—haggis!” she laughed, “and I told her, sorry—we only eat the best cuts of meats in England, not the snout of a cow and a pig’s tail mixed with oatmeal!”

                “She thinks Adam’s ale is actual ale!” other women brought up in a fit of laughter, “And we didn’t bother to correct her!”

                “The Elk through a fit when the servants put away her old family’s gross crest in the sellers a few months back,” another informed him. Louis frowned.

                “Elk?” Lydia smirked.

                “It’s other little nickname for the heathen,” she boasted.

                Louis restrained himself from rolling her eyes, and kept his fist clinched at side.

                “Ugh, and she has that God awful sad plant in the garden King Liam gifted her for some reason,” Lydia rolled her eyes and Louis glared her down, but she was too busy talking to notice, “It’s like she’s trying to make this Scotland—which is what my father worried would happen. And the Elk started this whole war by opening her legs up for that Wexler man and denying it. Really, King Liam is much better off with an actual English woman, one who is actually beautiful and smart and knows about our way of life.”

                The ladies all seemed to agree with their ringleader and Lydia turned to her friends to welcome their praises.

                That’s when Louis struck.

                Quick as a feather in the breeze, Louis grabbed Lydia’s necklace by the pendent and yanked it off her neck. The other girls yelped in dismay and Louis simply ignored it as he walked over to the creek.

                “Hey!” Lydia grasped, “Give that back!”

                They all crowded Louis, but the knight held out the necklace over the raging waters of the creek. He smirked happily as he turned to them.

                “Now, now ladies—anyone makes a move and this thing goes in the river,” Louis spoke, looking at Lydia, “And you would have a hard time trying to explain how your necklace went missing to Queen Eleanor, won’t you?”

                Lydia huffed, “My father will tell King Liam of this!”

                “Yeah? And who will the king believe—his snotty advisor’s bitchy daughter?” The girls gasped in horror and Louis beamed, “Or will be believe me, his trusted friend since birth?”

                Silence, actual silence, fell over the women as they nervously looked at each other.

                “Just give me my necklace back!” Lydia cried, “I’ll be kicked off the court if I don’t have it!”

                “Not my concern,” the knight said plainly, “But my Queen is my concern. I fought to protect her against hundreds of men, but it looks like the main threat to my Queen is in her court.”

                Lydia spoke up, “She’s just a Scot! She’s only the Queen in marriage for a political gain—”

                “Even so,” Louis interjected, moving the necklace to loop around only one of his fingers. The ladies all gasped as he did this, “The Queen is to be respected by all, especially by you shameful women.”

                “We promise we’ll be nice to the Elk!” Lydia yelled, but as soon as she said it, Louis could see the regret on her face.

                Louis clicked his tongue, “Poor choice of words.”

                The necklace accidently slipped out of his hand. All the ladies shrieked, and Louis stepped aside as Lydia quickly went onto the creek. She looked in the spot where Louis had dropped it, but the current was strong, and the waters were dark. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be there for a while trying to find her coveted necklace.

                “Just know ladies,” Louis taunted as he left, “I got the necklace real quick, and I can do the same to any of you if I hear you’re rude to the Queen again. If any of you talk ill to anyone about Queen Eleanor in the palace again, your necklace might face a worse fate.”

                Louis walked through the creek and chuckled freely as all the ladies frantically searched the waters. Their dresses were surely ruined and their squealed and pulled their hands out of the water every time they felt a fish.

                “That was an incredibly dumb thing to do, Lou,” Zayn scolded him.

                Louis only shrugged at that, and grinned madly, “Oh well.”

~~~

                Louis was tired.

                Just plain, soul crushing tired.

                He was tired of falling asleep for a few feeble minutes at a time, only to wake up in a sweaty panic. He was tired of closing his eyes and he would suddenly be back on the battlefield. All the faces of the young men Louis had stabbed would reappear and haunt him. The looks on those countless men’s faces as Louis killed them always seemed to stay with Louis at all hours of the day, but nighttime was the worst. It was as if the spirits of these men wouldn’t allow Louis to have any peace to sleep. And Louis thought he would do he same if he were killed in such a manner, he too would forever haunt the person that did him in.

                Still, they were relentless.

                Louis couldn’t take it anymore.

                One night had been particularly bad. Louis awoke from a graphic dream, where he was once again on the battlefield. He could practically smell the blood, could feel the pressing weight of his armor on his chest and limbs. There was shouting everywhere, screams echoing loudly his ears.

                Louis woke up in a cold sweat, his chest heaving for air. He was exhausted, eyes dried and blurry from little to no sleep for weeks. He could take it anymore.

                Before he could stop himself, and rationalize what he was doing was wrong, Louis sprang from his bed and out of his chambers. He stealthily took steps through the hallways of the palace and up another floor before he came upon the Queen’s chambers. The knight was both surprised and relieved that there were no guards standing outside the Queen’s chambers. He knocked timidly against the heavy wood and iron door. A few moments pasted, and Eleanor didn’t appear, so Louis knocked again, this time harder then before.

                Thankfully, Eleanor came to the door. Louis thought she was gorgeous, because of course she would be beautiful in the middle of the night, with her eyes doe-like and foggy with sleep. She frowned at Louis, and it took her a second to register his state. But once she did, Eleanor’s features grew serious and on alert.

                “Louis?” she breathed softly. And God—just hearing her say his name was such a relief for him, but he needed more—wanted so much more. Eleanor’s unsure hand came up to his smooth cheek, her eyes scanning over his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

                Louis heaved, and hated the damned, frustrated tears that welled up in his eyes, “I-I need sleep, and I haven’t. I-I can’t—El, please.”

                “Shh, Lou,” Eleanor insisted, opening the door wider, “Come in.”

                Louis didn’t hesitate, he rushed into his Queen’s chambers. Instantly, the crushing weight on his chest eased up a bit. But it wasn’t until Eleanor took his hand in hers that Louis could breathe. She led him over to her massive, plush bed, and Louis waited stubbornly for Eleanor to lay down first. The Queen let out a surprise breath when Louis laid on top of her, his head in her chest and his hands clinging desperately at her sides.

                Eleanor began to stroke his hair, her fingers soothing and slow and just perfect. So perfect. Louis fluttered his eyes close, felt his beloved take in deep breaths beneath him, felt her soft fingers card through his hair. For the first time in months, Louis felt at peace, blissfully at peace. In the arms of his beloved, he didn’t have to worry about anything at all. He felt himself drifting off, felt the sweet little kisses Eleanor placed on the top of his head and her thumb rubbing his jawbone and he just lets Eleanor hold him like this, just for the sake of sleep and just to allow himself one more time to be in his beloved’s arms.

                Just one more night, Louis told himself before falling asleep finally, just one last time.

~~~

                One last time turned out to be false.

                For five nights, Louis would sneak out from his own chambers, and came into Eleanor’s to sleep. Being with her in her own dwelling, surrounded by everything that made up Eleanor was the only way Louis was able to sleep. The first night in her chambers, Louis slept almost eleven hours, missing breakfast completely and only joining the table at lunch when others were halfway done with their meals. Eleanor had given him a knowing look as he sat down at the table. Louis knew he had crossed so many lines with his Queen and that it needed to end things for good between him and Eleanor.

                But night after night, the demons would haunt Louis’ mind mercilessly. His body ached for slumber, but his mind raged on with horrible memories from the war. And so, Louis would find himself half asleep wondering around the dimmed halls to Eleanor’s chambers. After the second night, Eleanor left the door slightly ajar for Louis, so that he didn’t even needed to knock anymore. Louis would slip into the Queen’s bed as mutely as he could and Eleanor would only wake up briefly before dozing back to sleep, with Louis succumbing to sleep shortly after.

                On the fifth night, Eleanor’s wide awake when Louis walked in her chambers. It startled Louis, and he thought briefly that he was not welcomed to come in but. She smiled at him sweetly under the glow of the one candle lit in the room. Louis still felt uneasy, like the mood in the room had shifted so drastically in just one night and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

                Eleanor moved up to her knees once Louis walked in, closing the heavy door behind him. She crawled to the side of the bed when Louis approached her. He stiffened up when Eleanor’s face moved up to be on the same level as him, their lips just an inch apart. Her eyes were darker, noticeably darker and it got Louis’ heart thumping in his chest.

                The Queen moved her hands to hold Louis’ face.

                The knight gasped quietly.

                “Please,” Eleanor pleaded, her face changing to desperation. Her amber eyes widened, and her lip quivered, “Lou—please. I need you—”

                Louis stuttered, “El, I-I —we can’t—”

                Eleanor hastily kissed his cheek and muttered into his skin. Her hands moved down his chest urgently and Louis sucked in a huge breath as she tugged on the collar of his night shirt.

                “Lou—please,” Eleanor begged again hotly in his, “Just this once, let me have you. Let me be with you tonight. I’ve missed you so much.”

                Louis could every trace of resistance he had left within him wither away under Eleanor’s touch.

                He let Eleanor kiss him, needy and deep. For the first time since the war, Louis felt a surge of life pulse through his veins. He wasn’t heavy, weighed down by all the destruction and pain he’d seen. He was no longer tired, but rather felt the same energy he used to have as a rowdy boy.

                Eleanor exhaled against his lips when Louis took hold over her hips.

                They tumbled back onto the bed, Louis sliding into the space between her parted legs. Their hands quickly got under their clothes, with Eleanor being the first to pull of Louis’ night shirt. Louis leaned back and hoisted the material off his body. It felt stifling in the room, especially under Eleanor’s open stare. She reached up to touch his skin, her fingers skimming over one of his battle scars with such care.

                “Louis,” she muttered out quietly, her eyes wide.

                The knight chocked out lowly, “Darling.”

                A blinding smile spread over Eleanor’s lips just from the pet name, and it was the happiest he’d seen Eleanor since the night he returned home. She sat up and Louis helped her pull her night gown over her head. Louis throat grew dry once the garment was off her body because Eleanor was beautiful, so incredibly beautiful that Louis couldn’t believe God made such a woman. He fondled her breast while kissing her once more, earning a low moan from his beloved. God Louis’ missed every aspect of Eleanor but in this moment, he realized just how much he’s missed her body.

                “Lou—please,” Eleanor pleaded, and tugged on the ties to his night slacks. He huffed into the side of her head, painfully waiting for Eleanor to untie his slacks and push them down. His half hard, just from kissing and touching his beloved again, and he quickly kicked off the last article of clothing between them off the bed.

                Eleanor laid back down, her hair stretched out over the pillows and she just looked so angelic with lidded eyes and a wonderstruck look to her eyes. Louis loomed over her, his hands skimming over her sides slowly. She gasped shortly as Louis’ hand barely brushed over the front of her sex. It was hardly a touch but had enough effect on her to make Eleanor shiver. She was wet, and it made Louis curse hotly. Eleanor leaned up to kiss him, this time passionately and thoroughly. It caught Louis off guard when she wrapped her hand along the base of his cock, giving it a healthy squeeze before slowly pumping it up in her hand.

                “El,” he hissed out, his head dropping to her shoulder as she continued on with pleasuring him.

                “Can’t wait to feel you once more, my love,” Eleanor whispered, sounding so innocent despite what she was doing, “Been dying just to feel close to you again.”

                Louis kissed the side of her neck, “Me too,” he mumbled before sliding two fingers into Eleanor. She grabbed onto his forearm as he fucked her with his fingers, moving slow but rough. He could feel Eleanor shaking but so was Louis, because her hand was tight was warm around him. But within a few moments of working each other off, Eleanor was already close to the edge. Her legs shaking from where they were loosely wrapped around his hips, and she was desperately fucking herself down on Louis’ fingers quicker.

                “I-I, Lou—” she whined, “I—gonna, God—”

                Louis felt her clinch down around his fingers and watched in awe as Eleanor curled off the mattress in a silent cry in pleasure. It was a glorious sight, one that made Louis’ dick throb and his chest burst with pride.

                “There ya go, love,” Louis comforts her as she came down form her high, his fingers still working her over, but not as severe. Eleanor’s hard breathing settles down, her eyes holding a glossy shade and her mouth still parted in pleasure.

                Louis pulled his fingers out and took a second to compose himself, to let the moment settle over him. He hasn’t been with Eleanor in months, and Louis wasn’t sure if he would ever have his beloved like this again. So he wanted to savor everything, savor the taste of her skin on his tongue as Louis dotted kisses down her breast. He wanted to savor every moan that left Eleanor’s lips, every twitch her body made and quick exhale she made under Louis’ lips. He peppered kisses around her bellybutton and let his fingers dance over her upper thighs with Eleanor’s hand loosely stroking his hair and mumbling his name.

                Eleanor’s eyes still had a starry when Louis makes his way back up to her face. He smiled fondly down at her, brushed a wisp of her hair out of her eyes. Without breaking contact, Eleanor slipped her hand over Louis’ painfully hardened member. Her warm and firm grip around him made the knight gasp softly and his vision grew fuzzy when she lined him up to her entrance.

                “Make love to me,” Eleanor begged quietly, “Please my love.”

                And, well, Louis couldn’t really deny her.

                If kissing Eleanor brought Louis back to life, slipping inside her was like dying and going to Heaven. As Louis slowly moved in her, Eleanor let out a long, low moan and pulled the knight closer against her chest. He stopped once he was all the way inside her, and all he could do was kiss her endlessly because it was all pure bliss. All those nights at war, all Louis could think of was Eleanor, and how badly be wanted to be in her arms once again.

                Eleanor curled her legs around Louis’ hips once he started thrusting into her. He grunted with each thrust, moaned every time she tugged on his hair and lavished in the way her breath got caught in her throat with pleasure. Louis stayed above her face the entire time, never wanting to pull her gaze away from her beloved, especially not when she looked like that—eyes wide, lips quivering with delight, and little sighs that escaped her lips and landed on his lips.

                “L-Lou,” she exhaled as Louis found a steady pace, her eyes closing and her tongue licking her lips. Her toes dug deeper into his back and she began to rock into each thrust.

                Now Louis had—he had everything he could ever want.

                Even if it was just for one night, Louis would take it over anything else in the world.

                It was nearly suffocating, with their bodies pressed together Louis could hardly move his hips other then slow grinds as he rotated inside her. But Louis loved it, loved being this close to Eleanor once again. He yearned for it for months and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. It was everything and more he could ever want. Eleanor had her nails digging into his back and behind his neck. Her sighs of pleasure egged Louis, and he increased his thrusts with each passing moment.

                “L-Lou,” Eleanor cried out after a hard thrust, her fingers clinching into his skin harder. Louis doubled his efforts, aiming for the same spot that had Eleanor’s legs trembling and tiny little moans erupting from her lips. Sher urged him on, “Yes, yes—please Lou.”

                Moments passed by, and both are painfully close. Sweat glistened their skin, their breathes grew ramped with each passing second. Louis could feel Eleanor grow tighter around him. He could sense that familiar coil in his gut building up.  Their lips touched each in small pecks that were broken up by their whimpers.

                “C-Come on love,” Louis encouraged her, and reached down to press at her clitoris. The action made his beloved curl up into his chest, “Wanna see you come. Look so beautiful, always. Love you so much.”

                His words pushed Eleanor over the edge, her head thrown back in delight and a high exhalation came from her lips. Louis groaned at her contorted face, at her parted lips and he dropped his head to her shoulder. After a few more thrusts, Louis’ hips stalled and he came inside his beloved, his lips tight into her skin to keep himself from calling out her name. He held onto her as he enjoyed his high and tried to catch his breath. Eleanor stroked his sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, planting kisses adorningly on his cheeks.

                Hours later, Louis was still awake, but so was Eleanor. And it was the first night since coming home that Louis didn’t mind a sleepless night. For how could he when Eleanor was in his arms? When they still were high off of their evening together? When Louis could still feel the heat of Eleanor’s lips on his skin? How could he have a care in the world when he was with Eleanor?

                “When I was away,” Louis began after hours of not speaking to each other. Eleanor shifted slightly in his arms, and Louis could tell she was looking up at him in his chest. He went on after swallowing thickly, “I just—it was awful, El.”

                Eleanor wrapped her arms around him tighter.

                “Going into each battle, not knowing what or who you were gonna face,” Louis shook his head, “I would say my prayers before, every time—just to make sure if I died on some wretched field, I wanted to be sure God would accept me in Heaven.”

                “Louis,” Eleanor mumbled into his chest, and placed a small kiss there.

                “I hated having to kill other men, El,” Louis confessed, “I mean—I knew that I would have to, ever since I became a knight. I knew that I would kill other men, most of then decent enough to deserve to live. And I would have to die for my King if need me. I was always fine with the latter, but the idea of having to kill so many young men, men form my country—it felt so wrong, Eleanor.

                “And now, now that I am back, it haunts me. All the faces, all those men who I killed for my King haunt me all the time. But it’s worse at night, when the final moments of those men’s lives just keep replaying over and over again. I stole life from other men, El—men that probably didn’t fully believe in this war to begin with. I killed them, El—I sinned so many times. I’m a horrible man.”

                Eleanor sat up then, her hand cupping Louis’ face. She had a stern look in her tired eyes.

                “Louis Tomlinson,” she breathed out, “You—you are not horrible, not even close. You were defending your King, Lou. You fought for your country—”

                “I killed my fellow Englishmen,” Louis lamented, “Dozens of them.”

                The Queen stared at him softly, “You fought for me, Lou.”

                At that, Louis almost feels sick.

                “Those faces,” he said thickly, “They’re not the only thing that haunts me.” Eleanor frowned at this, and Louis reluctantly went on, regretting he said any of this. He smiled weakly, “You were the driving force behind every move I made, El. You were all I could think about when I was fighting, when I was alone in my tent at night. Every second I was away from you—all I could think about was doing whatever I could to get back to you.”

                Eleanor’s lips wobbled, “Then why were you so cold when you came back, Lou?”

                “Because I realized,” Louis muttered tightly, “About five minutes after I came back, that I—I’m not the same man I was when I left.”

                “Louis,” the queen sighed, her fingers lightly carding through his hair.

                The knight swallowed thickly, “I-I dunno who I am anymore, Els. I’m just—” he held Eleanor’s shoulders, “I’m not who I used to be. I don’t recognize myself—it’s like part of me died on that field along with all those men I killed. Every minute of every battle took a little bit more out of me and now—now I’m just a shell of myself.”

                “What about with me?” Eleanor asked sweetly, brokenly, “Do you feel this way with it’s just us?” Louis smiled, his gaze heavy.

                “All the moments I have with you are the only things that make me feel alive,” he stated earnestly. Eleanor bit her lip.

                “Then why have you been ignoring me? Why did you push me away?”

                At that Louis had to break eye contact, opting to look at the blankets covering Eleanor’s bosoms.

                “Because I’m not the man you fell in love with. You said so yourself the night I came back.”

                It was true, at least to Louis, but saying it aloud, the shame of it all was unbearable to him.

                “That’s not true,” Eleanor proclaimed stubbornly, and shamefully admitted, “I-I shouldn’t have said that. I was just angry.”

                Louis dully replied, “But you know it’s true, El. I’m nothing what I used to be. I—I was never a perfect man, not even close. But now, I’m not so sure I can even say I’m a decent man.”

                “You’re a wonderful man—”

                “Yeah? Tell that to the men who’s lives I took in war.”

                Eleanor shook her head, “You had no choice—”

                “I dunno who I am anymore, Eleanor,” he said painfully, his head shaking, “I killed so many men, I have blood on my hands. How am I supposed to just act like none of that happened? How am I supposed to just act like nothing change when it has?”

                “No one’s asking you to do that, Lou,” Eleanor insisted, her hand stroking his cheek.

                The knight shook his head, “I just want to be normal again. But I don’t think I ever will be.”

                “Louis, you mustn’t think that way,” Eleanor insisted softly.

                “Everything’s changed now,” he said quietly.

                Eleanor shook her head, and placed her hands-on Louis’ chest, “It hasn’t—not everything.”

                Louis dropped his head, his fingers lightly touching her forearms.

                “I’m not the same man you fell in love with,” he said lowly, his chest ached as it admitted it, “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be that man ever again. I dunno where that man is.”

                It was quiet for a moment or so after that, and Louis couldn’t bring himself to look at Eleanor.

                But then, Eleanor’s hand pressed firmly into Louis’ chest, right above his right pec. The action made the knight look at the queen. Her gaze was serious, steadfast as she looked into his eyes. Louis’ heart raced under her touch.

                “He’s right here,” Eleanor reminded Louis, her palm digging into his skin for emphasis. She told him earnestly, “You’ve changed, but not that much Louis. You’re still right in here, I can see him.”

                Louis shook his head, wanting to dispute that so much.

                But Eleanor retorted lightly, “You’re calling your Queen a liar?” It cut the tension, and made Louis laugh for a few seconds. Eleanor rested her head against Louis and the two just stared at each other, her hand still upon his chest.

                “I knew something was off when came back,” she admitted, sounding lowly, “I should’ve perused you more, checked in on you more—talked to you. But you shut me out. And that—it hurt so much, Louis. I prayed every day for months that God would let me see your face again. And when the war was over, when you killed Lord Wexler, I counted the days until you came home.

                “But then you were so cold towards me, and like—it hurt a lot. I thought that you just needed your space or that you didn’t love me anymore—”

                “Heavens no,” Louis interjected, his hands quickly finding Eleanor’s, “I could never stop loving you Eleanor, even when it hurts me. I’d always love you.”

                A truly lovely smile spread over Eleanor’s lips, “It’s the same for me too. I still love you, Lou—no matter how much you may think you changed. I know you Lou, and I know that every single reason I love you will never truly go away. I love you Louis, I always will love you too. Nothing will change that or come in between that.”

                Louis smirked sadly, his chest aching. He wanted to believe her, but something inside him just couldn’t. How could that be true?

                “Not even your marriage?” he dared ask, going in for the deepest cut. Eleanor’s smile dropped rapidly, her brows knitted in annoyance.

                “Lou—”

                A knock came from the door, breaking the tension. Louis sat up in a panic, not realizing what the hour was. It was then Louis saw the sun from the window in the room, and noticed it was well above the horizon.

                “My Lady? It’s me, Sir Malik. May I come in?” Zayn called out from behind the door.

                Eleanor looked to Louis anxiously, “What do we do?” she whispered. Louis sighed.

                “He knows about us Els,” he told her, and Eleanor frowned but Louis didn’t continue on, and she didn’t press him. 

                The two dressed hastily in silence and Eleanor answered the door once she was presentable.

                Zayn stepped inside, his eyes landing on Louis with a serious, somewhat disappointed gaze.

                “Thought I’d find you here,” he commented and Louis held back a sigh. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from his friend. Zayn coughed and informed him, “King Liam wishes to see you.”

                At that, Louis paled. What if Liam found out? What if discovered Louis was sharing a bed with his wife?

                Eleanor reached for his hand, and gave it a good squeeze.

                “I love you,” she told him honestly, “And Liam loves you too, like a brother. He wouldn’t—”

                “He would,” Louis said weakly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “In matters for his country, any King would kill his best friend.”

                “Don’t say that,” Eleanor insisted. Louis turned his face and saw the worried tears forming in her eyes. Louis sighed deeply and leaned over to kiss her cheek, squeezing her hand gingerly.

                “I’ll be okay, whatever happens,” he said, and blatantly lied with a timid smile, “I’m always okay.”

                Eleanor watched her beloved leave with wide eyes.

                “You are incredibly stupid you know that?” Zayn scolded Louis once they were out of the room and heading towards Liam’s office. Louis felt a little sicker with each step.

                He wanted to tell Zayn that he didn’t understand at all. That Louis hadn’t felt alive in months and he just—he needed Eleanor. He tried to ignore her, tried to do the right thing but he couldn’t. The desire was too much, too strong. And he hated seeing Eleanor daily and knowing she was always out of reach. That in the end despite their wishful thinking, Louis knew he’d never have Eleanor as his own.

                But Louis didn’t say that.

                “I know,” he agreed flatly.

~~~

                It turned out, King Liam did not summon for Louis to punish him for being with his wife. It appeared to Louis that Liam still had no clue about his wife’s relationship with his best friend.

                But Louis couldn’t wrap his head around the real reason why he was there.

                “Y-You,” Louis stuttered, “What?”

                The king threw his head back and laughed robustly. But Louis didn’t get—was this a joke? Was Liam’s proposition just a joke? Because Louis would believe that over it actually being true, because there’s no way what Liam said could possibly be real.

                “Are you seriously going to make me restate all that?” the king joked, his eyes rolled. Louis was about to tell him yes, actually—because he just couldn’t believe this.

                But then Jay walked into King Liam’s office.

                “You wanted to see me your Maj—” she stopped once she saw her son in the chair before Liam’s desk, her face flushed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

                “No, no, no,” Liam rambled excitedly, taking Jay’s hand and leading her towards Louis, “I wanted both of you here to share the news. Unfortunately, I got too excited and couldn’t wait for you. Louis knows it already but I think he’s finding it difficult to understand it.”

                Louis scoffed weakly at that, because a truer statement had never been uttered before.

                “Understand what exactly?” Jay asked as she sat down next to her son. Instantly, she reached over for Louis’ hand and the knight gratefully squeezed it. He needed the dose of reality, to really convince himself of what the Hell was going on.

                Liam smiled happily as he went on to explain a second time.

                “Well, yesterday I received an official written request from Lord Harrison to take over the York territories, in light of Lord Wexler’s passing.” At this Jay huffed.

                “The nerve of some people—asking the very King he betrayed for more land to rule over,” the woman realized she spoke out of place and quickly added, “Forgive me, your Majesty.”

                But the king laughed it off, “What for? You are dead right and I couldn’t agree more,” Liam and Jay chuckled for a few seconds but Louis couldn’t, just couldn’t laugh at this.

                “Right away I knew I was going to reject the request,” Liam explained, “There was no way I was giving one of the men who up until recently despised me enough to go to war with me more power. But it left me in a grave place. The York territory is very prosperous, and I need it to be led by someone I trusted more than anything.

                The king looked over at his trusted knight.

                Louis couldn’t look back at him.

                “It rattled my brain for most of the day. And then suddenly, in the dead of night—I realized who would be perfect for the new Lord of York.”

                Jay asked innocently enough, “Who, your Majesty.”

                Louis could feel the burn of his friend’s eyes upon him.

                “Your son, Jay—and a man I’m proud to call my friend and brother.”

                It was exactly the same thing Liam said before.

                He was giving Louis a royal title, an entire territory in England to rule over under the direct order of the King.

                Liam wanted Louis to be the new Lord of York.

                “Oh my Heavens,” Jay exhaled.

                Louis shook his head, “Liam, I couldn’t—I don’t have a drop of legitimate blood in me.”

                “That shit doesn’t matter,” Liam reasoned, looking sheepishly at Jay before adding, “My decisions are final, and I intend to make your bloodline royal, Lou.”

                Louis sat back in his chair, utterly astonished and humbled.

                “And I thought it was a rather worthy token for your heroic actions,” Liam added on and Louis pointedly looked at his king.

                “An entire Lordship seems far too extravagant for a few months of war,” Louis retorted.

                The king simply said, “Not in my eyes Lou. It’s a worthy title for all you’ve done for me over the years.” Louis shook his head—this was all plain ridiculous. No way was a bastard going to become a Lord to one of the largest territories in England.

                “I wouldn’t even know how to be a Goddamn Lord, Liam!” he reminded his friend.

                “It’s relatively easy,” Liam insisted, “You have tenants of the land, collect rent and taxes from the subject, and listen to any of their problems and concerns. And then you’d report to me with the taxes and rent and any concerns you’d have. If need be, I’d give you my verdict on things and you’d act out on them. It’s simple.”

                Louis shook his head, “Li—I couldn’t. It’s all too much, I-I’m not worthy—”

                The knight stopped instantly when he heard muffled sniffles coming form beside him. For a few moments, Louis forgot that his mother was even there, and when he turned to look at her he wished she wasn’t in the room.

                Jay was crying into her palm, her wet gaze was proudly on her son. Louis’ shocked eyes landed on her fingers, her stained fingers filled with callouses from years and years of hard work. It all washed over him, how much of an outcast Jay became after Louis’ wretched father bailed on their family. Louis always recalled her working hard, working up form the lowly positions in the palace up to Queen Karen’s head maid. And yet, she always had time for Louis, always was an incredibly caring and loving mother towards him.

                “M-My boy,” she rasped thickly at her son, “Lou—you’re going to be a Lord, a real Lord!”

                It hit him hard in the knight’s gut.

                If Louis accepted this incredible offer he was too humble for, his mother wouldn’t have to work a day in her life ever again.

                “You’d be the Dowager Countess of York, Miss. Jay,” Liam told her kindly, and that just about sealed the deal for Louis.

                But still, Louis hesitated.

                “Wouldn’t the York people be upset being ruled by a King’s confidant?” he pointed out, “Don’t the Northerners hate you?”

                Liam cracked a smile, “My advisors have learned that the war changed a lot of Northerner’s minds,” he said, “Plus, I think it’d be a great idea to have someone so close to the King right there up North keeping an eye on things just in case.”

                Dammit, Liam had become an incredibly wise king. He really had an answer for everything.

                And Louis only seemed to have one answer for his king. 

~~~

                Louis’ collar itched at his neck.

                The velvet material felt so strange on his skin. He’d never work such expensive materials on his body before. Dressed in a black velvet tunic, with a sash with the Payne clan emblem on it going across his chest and linen tights and boots—Louis never felt more out of place. He was on the verge of vomiting from nerves all morning.

                He was meant to be in the throne room then, being anointed by King Liam himself to be the next Lord of York.

                But instead, Louis stood in the royal gardens beside the heather plant.

                “Everyone’s looking for you.”

                The sudden voice startled Louis and spun around. His queen stood before him, wearing a heavy blue dress with silver embroidery. A rope draped over her shoulder and a blinding jewel crusted crown laid atop her head. Eleanor was smirking at him, and her eyes beamed with pride at him. Louis couldn’t handle her gaze, yet he couldn’t look away either.

                “You’re stunning,” he blurted out earnestly, dumbly.

                Eleanor huffed out a soft breath as she approached him, “Thank you, but I actually think you look way better.” She fixed the top of his collar, and Louis tightened up as her hands were on his body.

                “I’m not sure the clothes suites me,” he admitted softly. The queen kept her gaze on his collar as she shook her head.

                “It’s not the clothes or a title that makes a man, Louis,” she told him, and then looked up into his eyes. She gave a closed mouth smile before concluding, “It’s the man who beholds these things that matters. And I think that you’re the best man I’ve ever met. York is lucky to have you as their new Lord.”

                Louis scoffed at that, “You seriously think they’ll listen to me? A bastard?”

                Eleanor frowned at his words, “They’d be silly not to.”

                “Or they’d be smart not to,” Louis sighed, confessing, “I don’t know how to be a bloody Lord.”

                “You’ll figure it out, Lou,” Eleanor told him surely, “You’re a natural born leader.”

                And well, Louis couldn’t denounce that.

                Eleanor didn’t pressure him to go to the ceremony. Instead, she rested her head against his and his cheek with one hand. Louis was long pass rejecting him, mainly because he needed to sense of peace Eleanor has always given him. Plus, Louis knew this was the last time they’d be alone together for a long time. After the ceremony, Louis would be heading out for York with his mother in toe.

                “I’m going to miss you so much Els,” Louis said thickly, “I feel so foolish ignoring you so much these past weeks. I shouldn’t have been so distant and rude, I wasted so much time.”

                Eleanor smiled sadly, “I’m not angry at you Louis. You weren’t in a good place, and you’re still not completely yourself.” Louis shook his head.

                “I lost sight of what mattered,” he told her, “I only focused on putting my duties first, and I pushed you aside. I can’t tell you how angry I am at myself for doing that.”

                “It doesn’t matter now,” Eleanor whispered, her thumb running along his cheekbone, “We love each other, little tiffs couldn’t come between us ever. We are destined to be together Louis, no matter how long it takes. I believe in us, I really do.”

                “So do I,” Louis said truthfully, “But I just don’t know how—”

                “We don’t need to know how or when,” Eleanor insisted, “We just need to believe that it’s going to happen for us.”

                Maybe it wasn’t wise to think like this. A part of Louis knew that although becoming a Lord would bring him so much more opportunities, it meant being with Eleanor would be more difficult. Not just the physical distance that would happen between him and Eleanor, but also the stronger, more complicated relationship with his King. He now answered to Liam more so then ever, and he could feel the King’s tighter grip on him even before becoming a Lord officially.

                Louis knew realistically that now he’d never get a chance to have Eleanor.

                But he chose to ignore that. He chose to hold on the only thing that made him happy these days.

                “I’m going to miss you so much,” Louis muttered dreadfully.

                At this, Eleanor backed off and turned to the heather plant. Louis was shocked to see her pull his danger out from the depths of her robe. She cut a few pieces of heather from her beloved plant and handed them to Louis with a smile.

                “Here,” she insisted as Louis took the flowers form her, “Take these to York and plant them in your new estate. That way you’ll always have a piece of me, and you’ll always be reminded of my love for you.”

                God Louis loved Eleanor so much.

                He showed his love to her by surging forward into a kiss. It was soft, yet Louis could feel everything in Eleanor’s lips. It seemed like they both wanted it to be a slow, long kiss so they could savor what was to be the last kiss they’d share for a very, very long time.

                Eventually they drew back for air and Louis brushed his finger over he cheek.

                “I’m nervous,” he said.

                Eleanor promised him, “I’ll be right there in front of you when you’re declared a Lord.”

                That’s not what the knight meant, but he swallowed thickly and nodded.

                “I love you,” he said again, because there were so many times he should have told her that over the months and never did, “Every day we’re apart, I’ll never stop thinking of you. I’ll never stop loving you Eleanor.”

                Eleanor drew up a shaky smile and couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She kissed his cheek firmly, leaving her lips pressed to his skin for a moment before she turned and lead the way back to the palace.

                Moments later, Louis kneeled before his beaming king and felt the heavy blade tap each of his shoulders. His secret gaze never left Eleanor, who beamed proudly at her beloved.

                After a celebratory lunch, Louis hoisted onto Sable and gave an adoring crown a final wave. His eyes locked with Eleanor, who didn’t bother concealing her tears as Louis looked at her for a final time. She nodded at him and smiled largely for him and no one noticed when she mouthed ‘I love you,’ to him. Louis’ chest tightened up and he gave his beloved a private smirk just for her.

                The new Lord began his journey into the next chapter of his life, with one hand holding onto the pink heather flowers and a resounding ache in his chest.

~~~

~Eight Months Later~

                Louis stood before his own heather plant and admired each flower fondly.

                It had grown well over the months, and the garden told the Lord it was because of York’s cooler climate.

                He couldn’t wait for Eleanor to see it in person, and place one of the flowers behind her ear.

                “My Lord?”

                Louis turned around at the familiar voice. Mr. Quincey, his personal valet and servant, stood a few feet behind him. He was older then Louis was, with balding pepper hair and had a bum knee from a wagon accident he had when he was a boy. But the man was a faithful servant from the first day Louis arrived, and his age and injury never slowed him down. Louis was lucky to have such a diligent man work for him.

                “Yes, Quincey?” the Lord addressed him.

                The servant informed him, “His Royal Highness King Liam is pulling up to the estate.”

                Louis swallowed thickly, butterflies soaring in his gut.

                He had been counting down the days until he would see Eleanor again and the moment has finally arrived.

                “Has my mother been informed?” Louis asked as they walk out of the gardens and back into the large estate Louis now called home.

                The servant nodded, “The Dowager Countess is already outside waiting, Sir.”

                Louis nodded and stopped at a mirror in the long hallway that lead to the front of the house. He brushed his short hair back and out of his face. He examined the shadow of stubble on his cheeks, mulling over his earlier decision to not shave for today. He recalled that Eleanor preferred him shaved, but Louis felt that the stubble made him look older, more elite. He hoped his beloved wouldn’t mind it.

                “Quincey,” the Lord called out, and right away, his servant approached him with his sash. Louis watched in the mirror as the servant placed the black sash with the Tomlinson crest proud on his chest. Louis chose the blue jay as his house’s symbol, as they are both a tribute to his mother’s nickname. But also because blue jays represent faithfulness, endurance and loyalty, which Louis wanted the last part to send a clear message to the North about his ties to the crown. Happy with his reflection and deemed it worthy of Eleanor’s eyes, he headed towards the front of the estate.

                It was a dull February day with thick gloomy clouds that coated the skies and a biting came with the winds. All the servants were already outside when Louis joined them, all waiting for the King’s arrival. But Louis was solely waiting for Eleanor.

                “You look lovely, mother,” Louis flattered his mum as he greeted her with a kiss. Jay smiled happily.

                “Thank you, son,” the two looked forward and could hear the sound of speeding horse hooves building up in the distance. The sound only made the Lord more anxious.

                “You ready?” Jay muttered sideways to her son, so only he heard her. And even if others had heard her, they’d assume she was talking about the King. But it wasn’t the case. Mothers always discover their son’s secrets, and in the past few months, Louis revealed all about his love for Eleanor to his mum.

                Louis looked nervously down the long road that comes up to the manner. The carriage was in clear sight, and within a moment Eleanor would be stepping out of it.

                The Lord couldn’t answer his mother’s question.

                The carriage pulled up to the group and Louis’ heart pounded in his ears. As the King’s servants opened the door, Louis held his breath until his beloved Eleanor stepped out.

                But once Eleanor came into sight, Louis’ heart sank to the pit of his gut.

 

~~To be Continued!~~

**Author's Note:**

> *THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS!*  
> **PLEASE LEAVE NICE COMMENTS AND KUDOS! THANKS!*  
> I will try to have the final part up as soon as possible! I mean it this time!  
> My tumblr is: teatimetommo and you should see the post for FKAC to reblog on there! I'd appreciate that greatly!!!! :D  
> Take care my loves!


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